


The Racing Turn of a Page

by Kisuru



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Books, Character Study, F/F, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-07-27 12:32:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16219121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisuru/pseuds/Kisuru
Summary: Misaki comes to practice one day, but she instead finds comfort in talking about horror fiction with Rimi. It turns out they really have much in common.





	The Racing Turn of a Page

**Author's Note:**

  * For [revolutionator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionator/gifts).



Entering Circle’s lobby, Misaki glanced across the tables and chairs. Most the lobby was empty, and she spotted none of the Hello, Happy World! members hanging out. About to go check in and wander back to the studio rooms and change into Michelle, she paused as the sight of a girl in the corner came into her view. Alone yet studious, Rimi’s nose was pressed up against the pages of a book.  
  
The cover of the book was dark purple. Glossy trails of shadow and moonlight illuminated the cover in a beautiful set of midnight. Intrigued, she walked closer to her, and she hovered above her before she said anything, gathering her thoughts.  
  
Previously, they had talked only a little bit about such things. Watching Rimi quietly read to herself was far more captivating than some of the crazy situations her band mates got her in during practices. It would be a decent breather before practice began for the day.  
  
“What are you reading?” Misaki finally asked.  
  
Rimi hopped in her seat. Her concentration face relaxed, and the wrinkle in her eyebrow smoothed out. The drink on the table rattled and a fleck of liquid dribbled on the table. She blushed, carefully wiping it up with a napkin. “Oh, um,” Rimi said. “Hi Misaki-chan. This book came out yesterday! I’ve been looking forward to reading it. PoPiPa doesn’t have practice today, and it’s the perfect time.”  
  
Misaki slipped into the booth on the opposite side. She inspected the book’s cover again. On further inspection, he cover had a dark forest at the bottom. A realization came to her once she read the name written in loopy, splattered font. “I know that author.”  
  
“Really?” Rimi asked, perking up. It wasn’t often that they got the chance to discuss that. “Right, you enjoy horror novels, too! It’s kind of weird  when I think about that.”  
  
Misake blinked, surprised. “Why is that?”  
  
Rimi dropped the napkin in her hand. She leaned back against the chair, fidgeting. “Oh, you’re always so down to earth, so I thought you’d like reading something different.”  
  
Misaki side-eyed the window, as if she then expected Kokoro’s appearance as proof of the alien concepts she had to deal with every practice. Perhaps horror novels had prepared her for their outlandish wackiness. “You never can be a judge of who likes horror or not.”  
  
Rimi laughed, nodding. “That’s fair. Anyway, which is your favorite book of theirs?”  
  
“The Blood Oath,” Misaki guessed. After she had read it, she had never forgotten it.  
  
Rimi thought. Her mouth worked as she did so, and Misaki couldn’t help but notice how much effort she put into trying to remember. “Isn’t that the one with the ghoul clan?”  
  
“Yeah,” Misaki said. Genuinely, she was impressed. No one else ever knew anything about her hobbies. “The brother ghouls make a pact they’ll kill as many people as they can and survive, and well . . . they get away with it.” Rimi’s eyes turned wide like saucers, and Misaki scratched her cheek. “It’s pretty dark. And I like ghosts, but I really like vampires.”  
  
Rimi’s nodded. “I like vampires, too! Like, there’s a few really interesting books out there about how they live in human society.” As if she were getting nervous, she bit into her chocolate coronet, nibbling at the edge of it. “But I like werewolves even more.”  
  
“You don’t seem the type that enjoys werewolves,” Misaki said. Oddly, she suddenly imagined Rimi petting a large werewolf under the chin and taming it with her kindness and patience. Misaki found that possibility adorable despite herself, although she knew that fit the definition of horror.  
  
Rimi frowned thoughtfully. “My sister said the same thing. I think of how hard it must be to forcibly shapeshift under the moon. I can’t help but feel sorry for them, you know?”  
  
For a while they continued to talk about their likes while the evening sunset fell over the window. Misaki didn’t notice how much time passed, nor did Rimi herself. They were so engrossed in learning about each other Misaki didn’t realize she was late for practice. She hopped to her feet after her eyes landed on the clock, cursing herself, knowing full well that they must be scheming up some weird theories about Michelle’s whereabouts.  
  
“Oh, it’s getting late,” Rimi observed. She shuffled her book in her bag. “Hey, um.” She stared at her lap before she looked back at Misaki eagerly far too quickly. “We don’t have practice tomorrow, either, so I’ll come back tomorrow. Would you want to talk more?”  
  
Misaki’s stomach did a weird flip-flop at the suggestion. Rimi and Misaki were both fairly quiet and reserved people that normally didn’t show off their love for something so brazen and full of depth, and Misaki simply wanted to indulge. Her heart had grown fonder of Rimi in the short time they’ve spent together. She also doesn’t want the moment to end. She has a difficult time talking to other people about everything she likes herself, too, but she wants to prove she is cool for Rimi.  
  
“How about I bring some of the books I have and we can look at them?” Misaki asked.  
  
Rimi’s expression lit up. “That’d be awesome.”  


* * *

  
As promised the next day. Misaki walked to Circle with a spring in her step, surprised by how much she wanted to meet her again. She recalled Rimi’s adorable quirk of the eyebrow while she read, her expression focused and dutiful. Misaki appreciated that high level of dedication, especially since she suspected she didn’t show that calm aura off to anyone else. In fact, it was rather special she saw that part of Rimi for herself without other people. She wondered, did Rimi also see a similar side of her while she was lost in her own thoughts?  
  
“I brought the books,” Misaki announced. She poured a pile of books on the table from her bag and spread them on the table. Each one of the covers were colorfully dark and somber.  
  
Rimi peered over the books for a better look. Her finger traced the edges of the spines, and she flipped one of the paperbacks open.  
  
“That’s what I like about horror novels the most,” Rimi said, smiling, “I like how . . . unique they are aesthetically compared to everything else? Like romance novels aren’t nearly as distinct. The covers for those have pretty sunsets and couples . . . But you have to be creative for horror, and there’s always some kind of weird surrealism or strange symbolism you don’t get right away.”  
  
Misaki’s gaze landed on Rimi’s hand. Her heartbeat skipped, and she held her breath. “Yeah,” she said. Again, she looked at Rimi’s intrigued face. Yes, it was happiness to find someone with such a realistic view on these things. “Romance is pretty much the same in lyrics, too. But it’s not the same in horror. You get some messed up interpretations.”  
  
Rimi grabbed her drink on the table and sipped at it thoughtfully. Misaki watched her, far too engrossed in how cute she was. She rubbed at her eyes and shook her head.  
  
“Don’t you hate in horror novels how they treat romance?” Rimi asked. “Like, when someone is about to die and the plot goes out of its way killing the main character’s love interest instead of giving them an escape route? Sometimes it gets too cliché.”  
  
Misaki tapped one of the books closest to her. “I think this one has a plot kind of like that. The couple in the book stays at an inn in the countryside. There are monsters that live in the forest and mountains. It’s obvious they set up Kiki’s death for sadness the moment she goes outside and gets lost, because her characterization is lacking. Rin mourns her after her death for the rest of the book. But I like it because the prose is so beautiful.”  
  
“It is a big waste of the characters and their role in the story, in that way.” Rimi’s hands gripped onto the book in her hand. Briefly, Misaki almost wished she hadn’t explained anything; Rimi’s expression was so deeply empathetic for the doomed romantic couple.  
  
For a moment there was a companionable silence between them. Then, they reached for the same green-bound leather book on the farthest side of the table. Misaki’s fingers brushed Rimi’s. Rimi squeaked, cheeks exploding in a blush, and Misaki did the same to her own absolute astonishment. Misaki’s heartbeat accelerated and she felt dizzy.  
  
“G-go ahead,” Rimi offered.  
  
Misaki shook her head. “No. You go ahead.”  
  
They did not budge their positions, and Misaki still felt Rimi’s smooth skin under her own. Flustered, Misaki quicly switched tactics and scrambled for her drink and took a sip of the latte. It soothed her parched throat and she sighed. Suddenly, though, she realized that she didn’t have her own drink, and the drink in question was the one that Rimi had been sipping throughout their conversation.  
  
Rimi’s blush intensified several notches.  
  
“Ahh, I’m sorry — ah, um, ah — “ Misaki didn’t know why the thought of an indirect kiss – was that really how she was going to define this – made her entire body sing?  
  
“No, don’t apologize,” Rimi said, folding her hands in her lap. “Just . . . you don’t have anything for yourself to drink, and we’ve been talking for a while, so . . . I can buy you something to drink!” Her head bowed.  
  
Carefully, Misaki placed Rimi’s drink on the table next to the books. Chatters from other girls came from the other side of the room, and she cursed herself for her wariness. Rimi was reasonable and she made herself look silly. Neither of them had this connection with anyone else, and their closeness was their side of the world. She hoped they continued  discussing horror fiction, and maybe even more than that, into the evening hours while the sunset cascaded across Circle’s lobby.  
  
“I’d like that. Thank you.”


End file.
